Date: Sat, 16 Apr 2005 11:57:01 +0100 (BST) From: roy p...... Subject: Cross-country Running I really hated cross-country running. Our P.E. teacher, however, seemed to enjoy making us do it unless a) the temperature was below -10, b) the rain was heavy enough to cut off areas of the town by flooding (and our town is on a hill), or c) world tension could bring on a nuclear war within the next two hours. So most Thursday afternoons we were subjected to having to run 50 miles (or so it seemed) round the paths of the park and woods nearby. That was another thing - it wasn't cross-country running. It was through the streets, past the shops, round the park and back through the streets running. So I hated it. One Thursday, however, it wasn't so bad. In fact, I positively enjoyed it! Let me explain. I was a typical 14-year old boy, average in academic ability (when I could be bothered), average in physical ability (when I could be bothered), and well over average in sex drive (and I bothered a lot with that!). What wasn't typical, however, was the fact that it wasn't girls my sex drive was aimed at, it was boys. Especially David Priestley. David Priestley had been my best friend since the first day we'd gone to school and both sat at the same double desk. We were five, and our friendship had endured many, many trials and tribulations over the past nine years. We'd discovered much about life together, good and bad, and gave each other help and support when it was needed. Sex was a thing first giggled about, then learnt the details of, during those years. We had explored each others bodies intimately as we learnt and grew, and discovered each others likes and dislikes on the way. David was the first of us to learn about wanking, taught in the time-honoured way by his elder brother, and as with all other knowledge soon shared it with me. His descriptions of what he'd like to do with a girl fuelled our sessions together, and I had to lie and make up similar situations when my turn for the fantasy came along. We'd strum away on our erect organs setting out imagined scenarios till we were satisfied, our orgasms flooding our hormone-filled bodies as our semen came flying from our cocks. David had this game we'd play sometimes where we'd tell each other what they'd do would with a girl, he'd say what she'd do with me and I had to say what she'd do with him. He seemed to get off quicker this way. Normally during cross-country we'd run together, and at some point he'd say "I'd love to be with,-" or, "I dreamt I was with (insert some girl's name here) and we -" followed by an accurate and vivid description of the sexual passion they'd share. The effect of this was, of course, erections for both of us in our thankfully loose shorts, and the enjoyment that a unrelieved hard on can give a teenage boy. The pent-up passion usually meant a good session at one of our houses after school! This particular Thursday, though, when he said "I'll tell you what you're going to imagine", as we left the open parkland for the woods, it wasn't the usual boy- girl fantasy. "Imagine you'd had an accident," he began, "and both your hands and arms were in plaster." I did imagine some of the difficulties that would bring. "You'd need someone to do almost everything for you, wash you, dress you, hold you when you went to the toilet." We jogged on together, me imagining someone having to do these things. Wiping the backside seemed pretty gross, but the thought of someone else's fingers holding me while I took a piss started the swelling off down in my shorts. "You wouldn't be able to wank either, imagine that for eight weeks!" Impossible. I couldn't go eight hours without that. "After six weeks your parents were unable to cope," he went on. "They ask someone to come and live with you, do everything for you that you can't, even sleep in your room in case you needed help in the night. Who would it be? And, it can't be family." I thought this one through, who should I say? "Brittany Spears?" "Do you think your folks know her well enough to get her to drop her singing career to care for you? I'm talking real choices here." I named a few girls from our school, ones he'd named in our fantasy wanking sessions. "They're not available, sorry." He said. "And I don't think their parents would allow the night time bit, either." I was getting fed up with this silly game. "Well who then? Who would want to wash me, dress me, feed me, wipe my arse and hold my prick when I pissed? To say nothing of the wanking!" "Me!" I stopped dead, David ran on a bit then stopped and walked back. "You?" I said incredulously. "You? You'd do all that for me?" "We're best friends aren't we? Of course I would." I felt embarrassed now, doubting him like that. "Even the wanking!" he said. My cock jumped to full stand. "See? You're ready for it already!" he said, looking down at my tented shorts. Now although we wanked a lot together, we always did ourselves. Only twice in four years had we done each other, and that was part of an 'imagine a girl doing this for you' scene. "But if my arms were plastered, I couldn't repay you, could I?" I asked. "It's only your hands and arms in plaster,' he said, "you've still got a mouth!" My cock got even harder. Oh how I'd dreamed of doing that to him, taking that boy's cock in my mouth and bringing him to a climax like he'd never had before. "What are you saying?" I asked, a little worried about where this was going. "Look, we've been best friends since as long as I can remember. I know you better than you think, we talk about doing things with girls, but I know that's not your scene. To tell you the truth, it might not be mine, either." His hand touched the bulge in my shorts, a finger rubbed delicately over the damp spot that covered my cockhead. "Shall we find out?" he asked, and led me by the arm off the path deep into the woodland. My mind was in a whirl. I felt him lift the leg of my shorts and hold my raging cock. He rubbed it in just the way I like it done, and within seconds I was shooting rope after rope of cum at the trees. I gasped as all the breath was taken from my chest. "Well I liked that, how about you?" he smiled. I dropped to my knees, gathering my wits and catching my breath. His shorts, so loose that his hard cock stood out straight from his body under them, were right in front of my eyes. I carefully lifted the cloth of one leg without disturbing the erection beneath, closed my eyes and took it in my mouth. "Oh my God!" he gasped, "Yes, yes, that's it!" as I slid my lips over it and ran my tongue round the head. I sucked, licked and pulled at it with tightly closed lips as I felt his hands on my head, his fingers running through my hair. I felt him shudder and try to push my head away. I held my arms round his legs and wouldn't be pushed off. "I'm coming, I'm co -" he tried to tell me as I sucked and flicked my tongue. 'I know!' I thought as he shot his cum down my throat, time after time after time. He finished and I stood. Lost in my lust I kissed him, hard, on his lips. We broke and I looked at him, awaiting horror and disgust. He smiled. "What the hell have we wasted all these years for!" he said. So once, just the once, I enjoyed cross-country running. I have plenty of other things to enjoy, though, with David, my best friend turned lover.